Anniversary
by BrynnH87
Summary: This won Round 8 of the LFWS Contest in response to a prompt to write a story set 10 years into the future after the season six finale. It didn't have to have anything to do with the season six finale...which this doesn't, at all.


bTitle:/b Anniversary

bCharacter(s):/b The whole team

bPairing(s):/b None

bGenre(s):/bAngst

bEpisode(s):/b None in particular

bCrossover(s):/b No

bWord Count:/b1179

Anniversary

It's the ten year anniversary today. This is the only time I see most of the old team. Most of us have drifted apart, each doing our own thing, but we make it a point to get together on this day- no matter where we are – and remember.

Abby is the main one I've kept up with over the years. We both still work at NCIS. She's still working in the lab, still has her music on, just as loud. Or, I guess I should say, the music is finally _back_ to being just as loud. It took almost a year for her to get back to anything near normal – normal for Abby, anyway.

I was given my own team, which has finally worked up to having one of the best arrest records in NCIS. It had been a rough start, though; two newbies and a 'senior agent' with only two years experience. At first, we – as a team – made just about every mistake in the book. Our arrest record sucked. My leadership style mirrored Gibbs' and it just didn't work with my new team. I finally found my own style; they finally found their feet. Now I would stack my current team up against any other in NCIS. Our arrest record, now, comes close to rivaling that of Gibbs' old team – _my _old team – _the _team.

Ziva moved back to Israel and can't really tell us about most of the things she's been up to. Except for these anniversary meetings, I never see her, or even hear from her. She had contacted us by email sporadically for the first six months or so, but that eventually stopped. Now, no one hears from her at all. At least she shows up at these get-togethers.

Tim tried to stick it out at NCIS, on another team, for a while, but finally gave up. He had written and published another book by then and was working on a third. He really wasn't hurting for money, and he finally just decided it wasn't worth it to keep trying to work. He still lives in the DC area, and has regular contact with Abby. He and I see each other off and on. Occasionally Abby and I both go over and drag his ass out for some fun – whether he wants it or not. He usually ends up having a good time – despite himself. He hates these anniversary meetings, but he knows that Abby or I - or both – would drag him to them if he didn't show, so he always goes.

Ducky retired about a year after 'the incident' and took care of his mother full-time until she died peacefully in her sleep about two years later. Now he lives alone, though we all check on him from time to time. The autopsy gremlin even calls him in from time to time to 'consult'. I never know if Jimmy really _needs_ his help, or if he's just trying to get the older man out of the house for a while.

That's probably the weirdest change over the last ten years. Palmer is actually in charge of autopsy, now. Ducky groomed him for that last year to take over for him, but Director Vance decided the kid wasn't ready. He hired another doctor for an additional three years, until that man, too, retired and told Vance that Palmer was most definitely ready. The kid has a new assistant now that reminds me for the world of Jimmy himself, years ago.

I'm shaken out of my thoughts when Abby knocks at the door. We're driving to the 'event' together. Actually, _she's _riding with_ me_. She didn't have the heart to take the hearse to this. In fact, she had allowed the thing sit in her parking space for almost a year and rode to work with me. The hearse made a reappearance about the same time as the loud music.

"Tony," she says in a tone that tells me she's called me at least once before. I shake myself back to the present – yet again. My thoughts are all over the place today – as they are every year on this day. But Abby understands. Hers are too.

We finally get where we're going. Ziva, Ducky and Jimmy are already there. As always, we have to wait for McGee. We'll all go eat lunch together after this, as we always do, then we'll go our separate ways for another year. When Tim finally arrives, we all go in together.

Ducky says a few words, as he always does. He wanders off topic even more than usual, these days, but we all let him talk as much as he wants. He finally pulls _himself _up short, saying, "You always _were_ the only one who would stop my random musings, Jethro," and he patted the tombstone.

Abby gently places black roses on the grave, as she does every year and this time she actually got out the words "We miss you, Gibbs," before she started to cry. Ziva and Tim stand by passively and Jimmy actually manages _not _to cry this year. I put another of Gibbs' awards by the tombstones, as I do every year. I have no idea what happens to them after this day each year, but I really don't care. It's the only way I can think of to honor a great man's memory, even though he'd probably hate it.

As they do each year, the team moves away and leaves me alone with my thoughts and with anything I choose to say to the boss.

"Hi Gibbs," I start, "It's not the same without you here, boss. We're all doing what we do, but never as well as we did with you here. I'm sorry, boss. I should have been a little faster that day. If I had shot the guy just a split second earlier, he wouldn't have shot you, and you'd still be here." I place my hand on the tombstone. Ten years later, and I still feel guilty. That's something Abby is trying to help me with, but somehow, I'm not really ready to let go of the guilt quite yet. Maybe it'll keep me sharp, and I won't let the same thing happen to any of my new team. "We really do miss you, Boss."

We all sit on the nearby benches, and let ourselves be maudlin for a while, but then, as always, Ducky starts telling stories of things he did with Gibbs, and we all join in with our own memories. When we don't feel quite so depressed anymore, we move to the restaurant close to the cemetery, as we do every year. And for just that one day, we let ourselves remember…the good times… and the death of a fantastic man, one who affected our lives so deeply that six people, with barely anything else in common still come together once a year…just for him…because he'd want us to.

After lunch we'll go back to our lives. But we'll come back next year.

End


End file.
